We’ve been waiting impatiently for days. I’ve been checking my email like a madman, and I’ve jumped with every single beep from my cellphone. And last night, right in the middle of dinner, it finally came. THE DATE.
In 7 days, I will lay eyes on my son for the first time.
I can’t even begin to imagine what that’s going to be like. Emotional. And awkward. And amazing. And terrifying. And beautiful. And really hard. And who knows what else. I don’t even have possible scenarios or expectations in my head, because I have NO IDEA what’s coming.
If I spend too much time thinking about it, I get worked up and start to cry over the OVERWHELMING EMOTIONS of the fact that I am about to meet my son. My son who has lived almost 4 years in an orphanage without his mama. My son whose face I have plastered all over the walls of our house; whom I talk about 100 times a day with the twins; whom I have spent countless sleepless nights praying for. My son whom I already love with a fierceness I could never have expected.
I’ve been longing for this specific day for more than 2 years. It’s almost here, and I can hardly keep it together.
Good thing I have so many preparations to distract me in the meantime.
We’ll fly to Cali (the city where he lives) on the 24th, and we’ll meet him on the 25th. THAT’S NEXT THURSDAY. And it’s 3 days before his 4th birthday. (Oh, how the Lord so tenderly answered that prayer.)
Between now and then, we’ve got to book tickets, reserve a place to stay, finish our our travel prep conference calls with the agency, get all of the legal paperwork together that we have to take with us, buy caretaker gifts, make the list of questions for his caretakers, and PACK. (And that’s a shorter list than normal since we live here…if we were traveling from the states, that list would be much longer.)
He’ll come from the orphanage with nothing but the stuff we sent him in a care package a couple weeks ago…1 outfit, a blanket, 2 stuffed animals, a book recorded with our voices, a toy airplane, and a DVD of our family. That’s it. Anything else he’ll need, we have to take with us. Except that I don’t know what size he is, or what he’s used to, or ANYTHING about what he thinks is normal. Is he potty trained? I don’t know. Does he use a sippy cup? I don’t know. What does he like to eat or play with? No idea.
HOW DO YOU PACK FOR THAT?!
I am clueless. But, you know…we’ll figure it out. Or something. I’M JUST READY TO GET THERE.
We don’t know how long we’ll be in Cali. Hopefully only for a week or so, but delays are very possible. Since we live here in Colombia, we will hopefully get permission to bring Luís back to Bogotá with us soon, and we can just stay in our own house and try to adjust to “normal” life while we wait for our court date to finalize everything. But we’ll have to stay in Cali until they clear us for in-country travel.
I’m excited that Cali is tierra caliente. It’s tropical and hot and beautiful, from what I hear. The boys can’t wait to meet Luís. They can’t wait to ride an airplane again. They can’t wait to swim and play in the water (a luxury we don’t have in Bogotá). Barrett just wants the chance to wear shorts. Noah is excited because I told him he won’t have to wear socks while we’re there. Obviously they are thinking deeply about this whole concept (: Either way, the countdown has started.
I’m mainly just excited to have our whole family together for the first time, as weird and awkward and surreal and emotional and HARD (and amazing) that first meeting will be.
We’re coming, Luís. We’re almost there.